


Hope Next Time It's Not Who

by Dracothelizard



Category: Horrible Histories
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Gen, Kink Meme, Light-Hearted, Terrible Jokes, terrible puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:57:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11401107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracothelizard/pseuds/Dracothelizard
Summary: Written for the HHanon meme back in 2011.Unprompted 'Stupid Death meets all the Doctors' fic.





	Hope Next Time It's Not Who

"Next!" he shouted, hoping the next dead person would be slightly more interesting. As an old, frail-looking man shuffled in, Death turned to Cheryl. "I'm bored already," he said quietly.  
  
"Hello," the old man said. "I am the Doctor."  
  
"Yes, yes, hello," Death replied. "Cause of death?"   
  
The old man frowned. "Oh, erm, old age, I suppose. Although the whole Cyberman invasion didn't help."  
  
Invasion? That sounded interesting. "Oh?"   
  
"As usual, they tried to destroy the Earth, and I stopped them," the old man explained.  
  
"Yes..." Death looked at him expectantly.   
  
The old man shrugged. "Well, I returned to my TARDIS, and I sort of - collapsed, really. Old age."  
  
Death stared at him. "That's it?"   
  
The old man nodded.  
  
"A bit boring, but I suppose you are through to the afterlife," Death said, scribbling a note not to bother with old men any more.  
  
"Oh no, no, I get to go back!" the old man said. "Hm, well, not _me_ me, but another me. You see?"  
  
Death didn't see. "You get to come back to life?"   
  
"Sort of," the old man said. "See, I'm a Time Lord from Gallifrey. We get 13 lives, and at the end of each we regenerate into the next. It's very convenient."   
  
"I bet it is," Death muttered. "All right then, off you go, back to life!"   
  
As the old man slowly returned to where he had come from, Death realised that he would have to go through twelve more times.  
  
"I hate the non-humans," he said to Louis. "I do!"

* * *

The next time he met the Doctor, Death knew him before he introduced himself.  
  
"You didn't die of old age this time, did you?" Death asked.   
  
The Doctor, this time quite a bit younger, smiled and shook his head. "Not this time!"  
  
"Were you killed by someone with a sense of fashion?" Death gestured at the hideous checked trousers.  
  
"What? No! These are fine trousers!" the Doctor objected. Then he frowned. "Although the other Time Lords never did share my taste..."  
  
"Other Time Lords?" There were more of them? He hoped they were a bit more careful with their lives than this one.   
  
The Doctor nodded. "Yes, they erased the memories of my companions, erased the memory of how to operate the TARDIS, forced a regeneration on me _and_ exiled me to Earth." he exclaimed. "AND they took my recorder!" He searched through his jacket. "I can't find the blasted thing anywhere."   
  
Death frowned. "So... you're more upset by not having a recorder than by not having your memories?"   
  
"Well, my memories I can get back, do you know how hard it is to buy a decent recorder, hmm?" The Doctor fixed him with a firm look. "Very hard!"   
  
"Maybe in your next life, eh?" Death told him. "Now, run along, back to life!"  
  
The Doctor left, still searching his pockets and grumbling to himself.  
  
Death leaned to Cheryl. "Hmm, I know, I hope his next version has a better sense of style as well. He should look into capes!"

* * *

"Oh, you're very dashing this time!" Death told the Doctor. He was an old man again, but there was none of the frailty. "I like your jacket."   
  
The Doctor smiled, brushing some dust off it. "Thank you."  
  
"So? How did you die?" Death asked. "Not another exile, I hope?"  
  
"Oh no, not at all. It was radiation," the Doctor informed him.  
  
That could be potentially interesting or funny. "Really?"   
  
"I was on a planet with giant spiders..."  
  
Death grinned. This was definitely good. "And they bit you?"  
  
"No!" the Doctor objected. "Not at all! No, the Spider Queen had great mental powers, and it unleashed deadly radiation. That's how I died."   
  
"Giant _psychic_ spiders?" Death asked, with great distaste. "You don't need to make things up to impress me, mate." He preferred the honesty from the others.  
  
The Doctor glared at him. "It's true!"  
  
"Sure," Death told him. "Just go back to life, and tell your fourth self not to tell any porkies!"   
  
"You are an infuriating man!"   
  
"Likewise," Death said, as the Doctor gave him one last glare and left. He leaned back. "I can't believe we've got ten more to go."

* * *

 

"Don't tell me," Death said, when he met the fourth version. "You tripped over the scarf." He grinned.  
  
The Doctor scowled at him, and swung one end of the ridiculously long scarf around his neck. "I'll have you know that this scarf has saved my life on more than one occasion."   
  
"Tetchy," Death muttered, glancing at Cheryl. "All right, mister high and mighty, how _did_ you die?"  
  
"Ah, this is a good one," the Doctor told him. "My old nemesis, the Master, was threatening to hold the entire universe hostage!"  
  
"Ambitious chap," Death replied. If this Master was another Time Lord, no doubt he'd be by later.   
  
The Doctor nodded. "Yes, if only he could've used his powers for good." He left a sad pause there. "The universe was about to be consumed by entropy, and there was only one way to stop it." He sighed. "Unfortunately, the Master wanted to hold the universe hostage instead, and I was forced to disconnect the power cable."  
  
Death frowned. That didn't sound impressive at all. "Disconnect a power cable?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, but it was on a radio telescope! So it was very dangerous," the Doctor explained.  
  
"Right, right, so you disconnected the cable..." Death looked at him expectantly. Perhaps the Doctor had accidentally electrocuted himself, or something.  
  
The Doctor coughed, and glanced to the side. "I, er, fell."   
  
"You fell?" Death asked, starting to grin.  
  
"I fell off the telescope dish, yes," the Doctor looked at him. "Landed on the ground and died."  
  
Death burst out laughing. "You idiot!" he said. "Oh, look at me, I'm the Doctor, I save the universe, whoops, I die immediately after a little fall!"  
  
"It wasn't a _little_ fall," the Doctor argued.  
  
Death just continued to laugh. "Maybe I don't fully understand the _gravity_ of the situation!" He chuckled at his own joke.  
  
"Well, no, because it was up rather high, and -"  
  
"Because I said 'gravity' and you died from falling, and - oh, never mind." Death sighed. "Make sure your next self has a better sense of humour!"  
  
The Doctor glared at him. "And to think I was about to offer you a jellybaby." He turned and marched away.  
  
"Calls himself a doctor and doesn't even know laughter is the best medicine," Death muttered to Cheryl.

* * *

"Hello."  
  
Death looked up, and for a moment he thought it was a cricketer, who no doubt had died in some ridiculous sport-related incident, but then he realised it was the Doctor. A Doctor who was looking quite normal, considering his previous versions. This one was on the young side, completely dressed in beige - with a small sprig of celery on his lapel, for some reason - and smiling happily at Death. "Hello," Death replied, and leaned forward. "Fell off something again, did we?"  
  
The Doctor just kept smiling. "Not this time, I'm afraid. I died from spectrox poisoning. Apparently it's quite lethal in its unrefined form."   
  
Death sighed. This didn't sound funny _at all_. "Did you at least save the universe with it?"  
  
He looked slightly embarrassed at that. "Not - not this time," the Doctor muttered, shifting on his feet. "I saved the lives of several people, though!"   
  
"Did that involve your little vegetable," Death asked, and he gestured at the celery.  
  
"This?" The Doctor beamed as he looked at the sprig. "No, this wasn't really of any use to me at all." He shrugged. "Better luck next time, I suppose."   
  
Death shook his head. "Go on, off with you, then." He didn't like this calm, accepting version of the Doctor at all, and he rather hoped the next one would be a little bit more fun.

* * *

Death couldn't believe his eyes when he next met the Doctor. Not that he blamed this one for not wanting to wear beige, but there was such a thing as overdoing it.   
  
"That woman!" the Doctor fumed, clenching his fists. "I am going to get her!"   
  
"Sorry?" Death asked, still slightly distracted by the pattern of the Doctor's jacket.  
  
"The Rani!" the Doctor shouted. "Who does she think she is? Crashing _my_ TARDIS? _MY_ TARDIS?!"  
  
"Oh, right, your little spaceship," Death said, and nodded.  
  
The Doctor snorted. "It's so much _more_ than a spaceship," he huffed. "And she attacked it! Out of nowhere!" He paused for a moment. "I mean, I did foil her plans on Earth, but that's no reason to just attack me."   
  
Death enjoyed a good revenge story, he really did, but it didn't sound like it was shaping up to be a funny death. "Right, so she made you crash your TARDIS, then what?"  
  
"Isn't it _obvious_?" the Doctor demanded. "I DIED!" Then he seemed to have a thought. "I hope Mel is all right. Oh, I'm sure she is, she can usually take care of herself."  
  
"Mel?" the Doctor asked. None of the previous Doctors had mentioned having any friends, except for that Master chap.  
  
"Yes, she's very nice. Been travelling with her for a while now," the Doctor explained. "I'd definitely prefer it if she survives, it's always quite sad when a companion dies."  
  
Death just smirked. "Travelling through time and space with a lot of young ladies, then?"  
  
The Doctor flushed a little. "One or two, maybe. But there've been men as well, you know. There was Jamie, for instance. I wonder how he is?"  
  
While the Doctor was lost in thought for a moment, Death just grinned. "Men _AND_ women, you sly devil!"   
  
"It's not like that!" the Doctor shouted. "Mel wouldn't let - I mean, I don't want to!" He let out another huff.   
  
"Sure, mate," Death replied. "Go back to your dear Mel now!"  
  
"I will," the Doctor said, after one last glare. "But she's not dear! I mean, she is, but she's - oh, shut up."   
  
"I bet that Mel girl's glad to see the last of him," Death muttered to Cheryl.

* * *

Considering how opposite the sixth and fifth versions had been of each other, Death was expecting the seventh one to be calmer again. And he was right.  
  
"Good day," a short man with a casual, light brown jacket said, as he raised his hat briefly to greet Death. He would've been easy to mistake for just another human, but then humans didn't have such age and experience in their eyes.   
  
"Died, did you?" Death asked. "Was it the Rani again? Or did Mel realise you wanted to show her more than just time and space?"  
  
The Doctor smiled a little. "No, as far as I know Mel is alive and well with Sabalom Glitz, and I've not seen the Rani in a _long_ time, thankfully."   
  
Death nodded, glad that the obvious anger from the previous Doctor had been replaced by this calmness. "So, how did you die, then?"   
  
"You know what I've often wondered?" the Doctor asked.   
  
"What?"  
  
"Why I've never challenged you to a game of chess." He grinned, his blue eyes sparkling. "That's tradition, isn't it?"   
  
Death sighed. He was half-surprised it didn't come up more often. "I got bored of chess. Far too easy for someone like me." That, and he had lost most of the pieces over the years.   
  
"Come now," the Doctor argued, still grinning. "One game? And if I win, I keep my life?"  
  
"Why do you want to? You already get to come back to life anyway," Death argued.  
  
The Doctor shrugged. "I quite like this one. I never know what I'll become next."  
  
"You could become better," Death suggested, pleased at the look of displeasure briefly flickering across the Doctor's face. "Now, how did you die?"  
  
"It's a bit embarrassing," the Doctor replied, looking down.  
  
"Oh?" Death sat up. This should be a good one.   
  
The Doctor sighed. "Well, I was shot with a gun, you see. It wasn't even a lethal shot either, something I easily could've survived with the proper medical care."  
  
"And?" Death asked, impatiently waiting for the embarrassing bit.  
  
"I... didn't get the proper medical care," he said. "Instead, I got a doctor who wasn't used to Gallifreyan physiology - not that I blame her - and she inadvertently killed me."  
  
Death had to laugh at that. "The Doctor!" he cried out. "Killed by a doctor! Oh, that is classic."   
  
A small smile appeared on the Doctor's face. "I suppose it's a bit funny."  
  
"You could say that doctor didn't have the _patience_ to deal with you being an alien!" Death started laughing again.  
  
"Possibly," the Doctor replied, still smiling a little.  
  
"You see, because figuring out your physiology takes time, and doctors cure patients, and - oh, never mind. Go to your next life." Death shook his head. His humour was wasted on this Doctor fellow.

* * *

For a brief moment, the Doctor thought the man was some Regency or Georgian noble, judging from the clothes, but this man had that undefinable certain something that only man had. "Doctor, it's been a while," Death said.   
  
"Has it?" the Doctor asked, sounding confused. "It's the time travel, you see." He smiled apologetically at Death.  
  
Death knew all about how confusing time could be, so he nodded. "Right, sure. So, how d'you die this time?"   
  
The Doctor looked embarrased. "I, er, I don't know," he said quietly.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I said, I don't know!"   
  
Death blinked, then he looked at Louis. "Have you heard that before? Well, no, of course you haven't." He glanced back at the Doctor. "Are you _sure_ you don't know?"  
  
The Doctor nodded. "I'm sorry! It's just that, well, I've had a _lot_ of amnesia, and, er, well." He smiled apologetically again.   
  
Death was, for perhaps the first time in his... career, speechless. How was he supposed to deal with people who didn't know how they had died? There was no fun there. "But... how can you NOT know?"  
  
"I know it's a bit unusual..."  
  
"Unusual? Your entire species is unusual, mate, but this is just impossible." Death sat back. "I can't deal with this, go back to life, and don't come back until you've died in a way you can remember!"   
  
The Doctor shuffled out of the room with an apology.  
  
"I can't work with this man, I really can't," Death muttered.

* * *

"Ooooh, you're back quite soon, aren't you?" Death asked.  
  
"Do I need to explain time travel to you again?" The Doctor was clearly not impressed.  
  
Very no-nonsense, this one was. "Someone thinks he's a clever-trousers," Death told Louis. "No, not you!" Louis always missed the obvious sarcasm. "Right, Doctor, how did you kick the bucket this time?"  
  
"Saving the universe," he announced proudly.  
  
"Impressive," Death replied, then grinned. "Fell off a radio telescope again?"  
  
"No." Clearly, the Doctor didn't want to be reminded about that. "I absorbed the time vortex from my TARDIS, but I was a little too late putting it back in the heart of her." He shrugged. "Happens to everyone."  
  
"What was the time vortex doing out of your spaceship anyway?" Death asked. It wasn't a stupid death so far, but perhaps there was something amusing somewhere.   
  
The Doctor smiled. "Well, my clever Rose had decided that she was going to help me fight the Daleks, and she knew she couldn't do that by herself. And she knew that the TARDIS would want to help, so she let the time vortex into her. They were a _fantastic_ team."   
  
"Rose?" Death asked. "Another one of your pretty young companions, is she?"  
  
"It wasn't like that," the Doctor argued. "Like I said, she was clever, and brave. The time vortex was killing her. I didn't pick her because she was pretty."  
  
"Bet it helped," he muttered to Cheryl, making the Doctor scowl. "So how _exactly_ did you get the time vortexy thing from her?" Because he had a hunch, and he couldn't wait to see if he was right.  
  
The Doctor looked away, and muttered something.  
  
"Sorry, couldn't quite hear that."  
  
"kissed 'er.."  
  
Death smirked. "No, sorry, come again?"  
  
He coughed. "I kissed her!" He watched Death's grin widen. "No, look, it was the only way! I had to get it out of her and into me without - without spilling it!"   
  
"Of course, of course," Death replied, still smirking. "I bet all the girls fall for that one. 'Sorry love, I need to snog you to save your life, yeah, the tongue's necessary for that'." He laughed. "It's not a _bad_ pick-up line, though."  
  
"It _wasn't_ a pick-up line! She was genuinely dying, and I had to save her!"   
  
Death just nodded. "No, I believe you. But you may want to get a bit better with women, mate. You don't have to wait until they're dying to give 'em a snog."   
  
The Doctor stared at him for a moment. "There's no reasoning with you, is there?"  
  
Death grinned. "You've met me before."   
  
"Yeah, I have," the Doctor replied, annoyed. "Can I go back now?"  
  
"Please, do. And remember what I said about women!" he called after the Doctor, who raised two fingers by means of reply.  
  
He turned to Cheryl. "I hope the next one's a bit politer."

* * *

The tenth version seemed surprisingly downcast when he trudged into the room. Unless Death was very much mistaken, he had been _crying_.  
  
"What's wrong with you?"  
  
"I died."   
  
Death frowned. "I thought you'd be used to that by now."  
  
"I didn't want to go," the Doctor said, sounding like he was about to cry again. "It - it's not fair."  
  
"Yes. Well. Er, that's life," Death replied. He never was very good with the ones who were truly upset. Confused he could handle. He grabbed Louis' scarf. "Hankey?"   
  
The Doctor shook his head. "No, no, it's fine. It's just - I was warned, and it's still a bit sudden." He sighed. "At least I got to say goodbye to people. Make sure they were fine."  
  
Death frowned. "But you can do that when you go back."  
  
"Oh, it's not the same," the Doctor complained. "Who knows who I'll turn into?" He eyed Death sadly. "You've met my previous selves, wouldn't you be worried?"  
  
Death shrugged. While some of the previous ones had been annoying, at least they had accepted their death. "At least you had a long run, right? With plenty of pretty companion ladies?" he tried.  
  
"Oh, the ones whose lives I keep ruining?" the Doctor replied, heaving a big sigh. "They're all better off without me, I don't know why I bother. I either strand them in an alternate universe, or make them hate me, or erase their mind or - well, the list goes on." He sulked.  
  
That did sound pretty bad. "Maybe you should be a bit more careful with them next time."   
  
The Doctor looked at him sadly. "I don't know. Is it even worth anymore? I've killed my own people - well, near as killed them - twice now, even the Master's gone. Who do I have left?"   
  
"The rest of the universe?" Death ventured.   
  
"It's not the same!" the Doctor wailed. "Oh, sure, I died saving the universe again - well, technically I died saving one old man, but you get the point - but is that worth it? Considering the lives I'm ruining?"  
  
Death tapped his fingers on his desk. He didn't like the existential crises he got on occasion, and he definitely didn't like it from people who had at least three more lives left as it was. "Well, consider your next life a chance to make it up."  
  
The Doctor stared at him. "...Make it up?"  
  
"Yes," Death explained. "You know, try _not_ to ruin their lives for a change. I'm sure you can do it." The Doctor seemed to have saved the universe often enough, surely he could make sure one of his companions was happy.  
  
The Doctor started to grin. "That's a _brilliant_ idea!"   
  
"It is?" Death asked, before quickly nodded. "I mean, of course. Go on, do it!" He shooed the Doctor out.   
  
He didn't, as it turned out, need much shooing, as he was too busy bouncing back where he had come from.  
  
Death turned to Cheryl. "I'm starting to think he _needs_ a Doctor."

* * *

 

When he met the eleventh Doctor, Death had to laugh. It's the sheer juxtaposition of his youthful looks and his old-fashioned way of dressing. "Is that a bowtie? And a tweed jacket?" he asked, almost laughing.  
  
"Hey, tweed is cool," the Doctor argued, but he smiled as he kept his hands clasped behind his back.  
  
"You seem to have cheered up," Death told him. It was certainly an improvement over the almost-crying of the previous incarnation.  
  
The Doctor nodded. "Yes, not sure what I was thinking to be honest." He looked at Death. "I've got you a gift."  
  
Death blinked. "You shouldn't have," he said. No one had brought him a gift before. "What is it? I love a present!"  
  
"I'm afraid it's not gift-wrapped," the Doctor said, as he walked closer and presented Death with his gift. "It's a fez."   
  
Death took it. "A hat?" he asked.  
  
The Doctor nodded, and grinned. "They're _very_ cool," he assured him.  
  
Death thought that was rich coming from the same man who had proclaimed tweed as cool, but he put the fez on anyway. "So, Doctor, how did you die?"  
  
"My wife shot me," the Doctor replied. "At least, I'm _fairly_ certain she's my wife. She snogged me, if that counts."  
  
Death laughed. "What?"  
  
"Yes, women actually snog me without dying now," the Doctor explained. He looked a bit dazed himself. "She's the daughter of Amy and Rory. My current companions," he added. "It's a bit... complicated."  
  
"Isn't it always," Death muttered, looking at Cheryl.   
  
"Yes, well, she tried to kill me once, but saved my life, and then I think she killed me again," he said. "Sort of."  
  
Death shrugged. "So? Go back to life, tell her to stop it." He thought it was the sensible option.  
  
"I would," the Doctor explained, "but River sort of shot me as I was regenerating, so I died permanently." He seemed to look a bit confused himself. "So, er, I think this is it, really."  
  
Death stared at him. "Your own _wife_ killed you?"   
  
"To be fair, River was brainwashed into it," he said. "Probably. You know, I thought Amy and Rory would be better parents, but then I can't blame them. The child _did_ get kidnapped."   
  
Death was fairly certainly he had never heard such a complicated and, quite frankly, ridiculous cause of death. "So I guess she sold you down the _river_ , then," he said, laughing loudly.  
  
Much to his surprise, the Doctor joined in with the laughter "She did!"  
  
Death kept sniggering. "Oh, _finally_ you have a sense of humour!"  
  
"Well, after ten times I'm bound to," the Doctor replied, still smiling.   
  
Death chuckled, and shook his head. "So, what're you going to do now?"  
  
The Doctor shrugged. "Thought I could stay here for a bit?" he suggested. "I've never done the whole afterlife thing, and, well, you seem friendly. And who knows, maybe I'll get to go back in a bit."   
  
Death looked at Louis. "Sorry, it's a 'no' from me and Cheryl, you're not through to the next round." He shoved Louis off his chair, and smiled at the Doctor. "Oh, look, there's a seat available!"


End file.
